The Journey of Jezebel Ch. 03

Jezebel opened her eyes, quickly closed them again and rubbed her fingers against her temple. A soft, and yet threatening headache rested behind her closed lids; she tried to push it away, but failed as sunlight streamed into the room. She rolled over, again opened her eyes, this time looking into a less than brilliant display of light. The sun still lit up the room, but this time it shone on her back and not on her wakening features. The knowing dent in a pillow and tousled covers, that rested beside her, showed Jezebel that the bed she'd lay in was empty save but her. She sighed, a twinge of disappointment flickered over her, before she caught the scent of bacon in the air. The sigh was quickly replaced by a moan of pleasure.

She pushed at the comforter that lay partially over her naked flesh. Her hands grazed her skin and she remembered how his hands had felt when taking the same path her fingers had just casually strolled. A rush of heat flowed through her; she licked her lips and slipped from the bed. Ten well pedicured toes rested on a thick rug. They curled into the material and then stretched out. She stared at the small digits, seemingly looking at them for the first time. He'd complimented her on her toes sometime during the night. It was an oddity for one to do during a moment of passion, but Samuel, she was discovering was very much an oddity...one she looked forward to discovering more of.

The sound of cabinets opening and closing brought her back to the scent of breakfast. Jezebel moved from the bed, made her way to the connecting bathroom and quickly relieved herself, then took a chance to wash away the evidence of their nightly play. Her wrist, she noticed was free of the steel cuff, yet in it's place was a small white piece of rope. She fingered it, as the water temperature reached a point that she would find comfortable. The rope was silky to her touch; she recalled how as she drifted in and out of sleep, he'd chuckled at her willingness to lay with the metal scrapping her skin if she shifted in her sleep. He'd said he was not willing to let it bruise her or him as she tossed and turned in the night; she drowsily conceded. He'd slipped the cuff off and replaced it with the knotted rope, which she barely registered as being attached to his own wrist, before slumber claimed her.

Samuel heard the sound of the shower running after the knowing flush of the commode. He thought of the beautiful woman, naked under a stream of hot water. He would have gone in there with her, washed her himself and then gotten her dirty again had it not been for the breakfast he was preparing. He found himself looking forward to seeing her stroll through the house and make her way toward him, in search for food, and perhaps more of their intimate play.

As the bacon sizzled in one pan, he quickly scrambled eggs in another, while biscuits from a can cooked in the oven. His mind drifted from the image of Jezebel on her hands and knees, his cock sliding in and out of her slippery pussy, to her laying on her back, her hands raised over her head and curling around the iron bars that made up the headboard. His cock jerked at the memories and he found himself wanting nothing more than to burn breakfast and reintroduce his dick to the sultry flesh that Jezebel owned.

Yet, he didn't. Samuel controlled himself, shaking his head at the amount of concentration it took in order to not do as his body demanded. He finished the meal, leaving it on a low setting while he set the table, moving quickly so as not to over cook the now simmering food. The idea of slaving over a stove and then presenting a cold meal or worse, a burnt one, to his lover was not something he wanted to do. So when Jezebel stepped into the room, wearing the discarded dress shirt he'd pulled off himself last night, it was to a hot meal and a ready man.

"Good morning," she greeted him, pushing at a few strands of wet hair, "It looks delicious," she whispered, then claimed a seat at the table, after he'd pulled it out for her.

"You certainly do," he answered back, tugging on her hair and pulling her head back slightly. Her neck was openly exposed; quickly he moved down to suck on the ivory skin. He tugged on her hair further, bringing a soft whimper from her throat, which he felt vibrate across his lips. Samuel grinned, made his way up the delicate column and then captured her mouth. Their tongues twisted and danced. He drank in the taste of mint and shared the coffee flavor of his own tongue with her. When he pulled away, his eyes feasted on her flushed cheeks and darkened eyes.

"Breakfast, pet," he told her before releasing her hair and moving to sit across from her.

Jezebel swallowed the lump in her throat and shuddered against the passion between her thighs. She watched in silence as he served them both. "Jez."

His voice made her look up and she blushed again. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking."

"I guessed that. What were you thinking about?" Samuel pushed her plate toward her, before digging into his own meal.

She poked the eggs with her fork, then sampled it, smiled appreciatively and then shrugged. "I was just wondering how long this is going to last."

Samuel stopped eating and looked back at her. "How long do you want it to last?"

She licked her lips and thought a moment before answering. "Forever seems a bit childish to say, doesn't it. Seeing as we don't really know each other."

A small smirk rose from Samuel's lips. "We know a lot about each other, just in a different way then some. I know you enjoyed yourself last night, as did I. I learned that I have a woman that could come for hours and may just wear me out. Something no other has done before." Jezebel blushed brighter. "I learned that though you are definitely a strong woman, you can blush like a school girl with just the tiniest compliment is aimed at you."

Soft laughter bubbled out of her lips. "Your compliments are sincere. That is the only reason I blush. I can tell the difference."

"I'm sure you can. I'm sure you've had your fair share of false bravado thrown at you, simply because you are beautiful, smart, and confident of yourself. All wonderful things that men enjoy, but may just compliment you in order to fuck you."

"And you don't want to fuck me?" she asked boldly, before taking her juice and lifting the glass to her lips.

Samuel chuckled. "I think I answered that question several times last night."

Jezebel smiled wide. "Yes, you did."

Samuel finished his coffee, spread butter on a roll and took a bite of the soft bread. Jezebel watched him chew, imagined his mouth gnawing on her and felt her breath come quick. She shook her head slightly and winced at the returning headache that had started to ease away during the shower.

Samuel got up, disappeared for a short moment, then returned with two white pills, which he placed next to her. "Tylenol," he said, reclaiming his seat and motioning for her to take them.

Jezebel slipped the pills between her lips and down them quickly with a gulp of juice. "Always looking out for me; aren't you?" she asked jokingly.

"If you'll have me," he told her.

The seriousness in his voice beckoned her to look at him more closely. She felt the tension in the air shift and knew that this morning would be a turning point in her life, more so than the activities from the night before.

"Jezebel, I want you. I want you here in my home, in my bed, in my life. I know we just met, but this is how I operate. I see something I want and I want it now. I don't like to wait. I go in and conquer, immediately reaping the rewards."

"And you're going to conquer me?"

"Not fully. I don't want to stifle your personality, or your life, nor do I want to limit you in pursuing things that you enjoy. I do want to conquer you in other ways," he thought a moment, choosing his words carefully, "perhaps 'conquering you' isn't the right way of saying it. I want to help you conquer yourself. I want you to open up and experience the woman you truly are, the woman you've hidden away from not only the public, but yourself. You were loud last night, weren't you?" he asked suddenly.

She blushed, bent her head down and stared at her hands. Her fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. "I guess so," she whispered.

"You were louder than you ever have been with another?"

"Well...no. I've been loud before, but that wasn't the same as last night."

"Oh? What was different? Was it because you were with me?"

Jezebel bit down on her lip, struggling with how much of her past to reveal to the man across from her. "Not exactly," she admitted, sheepishly looking up at him.

Samuel's gaze spoke confusion. He had been sure she'd been quite surprised by her own vocal response, yet here she sat across from him confessing that she'd been louder with another lover. Samuel studied her, noting the way her eyes darted from him to the plate, the way her body seemed to go stiff as she relived some event in her past. He waited for her to speak, inwardly hoping he'd not misjudged the woman before him.

"I faked it," she admitted.

His eyes grew wide and for once he was left speechless.

She looked at him, then blinked. "Oh god Sam, not last night! I meant before. I've been louder before, because I faked it... all the time." She sighed, shrugged her shoulders and let out a deep breath. "I was an actress... I did some small time adult films when I was younger and I learned how to fake it. When to make the right noises, what face to make, how to arch my back, when to..."

"I get the picture," Samuel said in a voice that spoke of disbelief. He sat there stunned by the fact that Jezebel was not as innocent as he'd suspected, but very much aware of how to use her body in the art of seduction. He'd been blinded and a part of him was disgusted by himself.

They sat there in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. "I'll go," she whispered, then rose from the table.

"Jez."

His voice stopped her, she turned and looked back. He'd risen from his seat, moved toward her and stopped only when she had. "I don't want you to go. I just want you to tell me the truth. Last night..."

She smiled softly. "Last night was real Samuel. Very real, more real than anything I have ever experienced before. From the first breath against my skin at the club, to waking up and watching you work on breakfast this morning. It was all real."

Samuel reached out, gripped her neck and pulled her toward him. His lips mashed against hers; his tongue invaded her space and claimed what she offered with no kindness hidden behind. It spoke of need, a need to satisfy himself with her actions and not just take her at her words. He needed to hear her again, to see the passion she'd shown last night and know that he'd brought her to that breaking point.

Samuel pushed her back to the table, shoving dishes away and for a moment he thought of all the cliché times to take a woman this had to be one of them. In the heat of the moment, dishes flying, silverware skating across wood, glasses shattering to the floor, but he didn't care about any of those things, he simply needed to possess the creature before him.

He lifted her up and dropped her onto the now clean surface. His hand circled her neck, moved lower and gripped the top of the buttoned shirt. He pulled it hard, buttons flew and again he was reminded of how cliché it all seemed, yet it also seemed right. He needed to mark her in a way that told them both that all that had happened, was happening and would happen was real; that none of it was faked, or rehearsed for a director manipulating a scene.

Jezebel lay on the table. Her breath coming in quick, short gasps. Her chest rose and fell. Her hair, still wet from the shower lay in tangles beneath her head and haphazardly across her shoulders. A few strands lay across her breasts, the slick tendrils wrapped seductively around one of her nipples, framing the rosy surface.

She opened her legs, and watched as the robe Samuel wore was opened, drug off his body and dropped carelessly to the dirtied floor. Her hands reached for him. She gripped his cock and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him and pushing him all at the same time.

He drove into her. Grunts of desire poured from them both simultaneously. Jezebel watched his face, noted how it strained to control the lust that had driven him to take her without care, to mindlessly fuck her. She wanted to lock in the features, burn them into her mind so she would know how far to push him the next time she wanted fucked in such a manner. She knew she'd want it again, perhaps more often than the slow love making he'd given her during one of their moments the night before.

She gripped his cock, working her muscles, forcing him to drag himself from her with more effort every time. He pushed into her, she welcomed him, and soon her eyes were clenched tight. No longer did she care about the look on his face, her body demanded she give everything to the sensations that were pouring inside her.

Samuel groaned. His fingers dug into her hips, dragged her against him, drew her back and then forced her down onto his stiff rod. Over and over he took her. He basked in the sound of their sexes smacking together. He lived off the fragrance of sex that mingled in the air with their discarded and ruined breakfast. His gaze locked on her breasts. They bounced as he plunged in and out of her, swaying with a natural rhythm. One hand released the grip on a hip and captured one soft globe; he squeezed it hard, then lowered himself, bending just enough to bite on the tender bead, while still burying himself within her velvety folds.

"Jezebel," he grunted, released her tit and pulled the majority of his shaft free of it's sweltering home, "how long do you want this to continue?"

She gazed at him through foggy eyes. "Forever," she hissed, biting down on her lip before opening her mouth and begging him to continue, "Fuck me forever...please!"

Samuel reached up, grabbed her neck and held it in a firm grip. He watched the initial fear subside and acceptance sweep over. He controlled the pressure on her windpipe, never cutting off her air supply, but letting her know he could if he wished to. She trusted him, and as his come filled the center of her core, hers coated his dick with searing heat.

Together they shouted, his fingers releasing the grip, so that her voice could be heard clearly throughout the house. Samuel basked in it. He shuddered violently as a second stream of his seed exploded from his dick, coating her further in the lust she drew from him.

She held him to her. Her legs stiff, yet seemingly capable of keeping him captive for eternity, if she so desired. He lay on her. Stiff nipples of both sexes dug needly into flesh of the other. "Forever," he muttered before his lips returned to drink from hers.